Come Back
by mywarisalreadywon
Summary: Dean goes to visit Mary and tells her how his life is going. pre-series.


**I own nothing you recognize.**

**From the desk of a twelfth grade nothing.**

* * *

Sarah Westley was an honest-to-God, perpetually nice person. She never imagined that she would lose a friend the way she lost Mary Winchester. House fires were bad, and, admittedly, she had seen more than one family lose everything that way. But poor Mary was one of the nicest people she'd ever known. Her son, Dean, had been friends with Sarah's son Brian. After Mary's death though, Dean stopped talking and never left his little brother's side. Soon after, John had taken both Dean and Sam and left. Sarah never saw those boys again. She and the other women on the street would sometimes wonder whatever happened to them. They would go to visit Mary's grave on the anniversary of her death.

It was about sixteen or so years after her passing and she was headed to visit Mary with another friend, Ashley. They were still some distance away, but close enough to see the grave.

"Do you hear that?" Ashley said suddenly, stopping in her tracks. Sure enough, the growl of a muscle car's engine was steadily getting louder. They watched as a 1967, cherry black, Chevy Impala came to a stop on the nearby pathway. A young man, maybe early twenties, got out of the car and walked to the grave.

"Isn't that John Winchester's car?" Ashley asked.

"Certainly looks just like the one he used to drive," Sarah confirmed.

"It's got Kansas plates," she noticed. "But that boy is too young to be John." The young man was stocky, but, at around 6 feet tall, he certainly wasn't lacking in height. He had short-cropped dark blond hair and was wearing worn jeans and leather jacket. He stopped at Mary's grave. He stood there for a minute without saying anything, like he was unsure of what to do now that he was here. He shoved his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath.

"You know, Dad'll probably kill me when I get back there," he said. His deep voice rumbled with his Kansas accent. "He doesn't exactly approve when I just up and leave." His rough voice barked out what might have been a bitter laugh. "He just doesn't get that I can't listen to him and Sammy fighting all the time." He sighed and was silent again for a moment. "I honestly don't know how I got here," he confessed. "I was just trying to get away from the job, from the fighting, from the silent treatment, from the fighting, from the drinking, did I mention the fighting?" he let loose another bitter laugh. "Truth is, dad died with you that night. Now he's just Sir." He sighed and suddenly seemed much older. "It's gotten to the point where he says 'jump' and I don't even ask 'how high'." He shook his head as if trying to clear it.

"I never even tried to finish high school. I never tried to go to college. I'm just not cut out for that life anymore. I can't have that life with a nice girl and a couple of kids. I've known that for a long time now, but Sammy, Sammy can have that. He can get there. Sammy's smart, he's got a chance to get out of this life. I don't know if I should be proud or upset. I'm happy he's getting out, but I don't want him to leave me alone." The young man was clearly conflicted about this whole situation. "I just –" he scrubbed a hand over his face. "I don't know what to do." He stopped talking for another minute.

"On top of all of this shit, I'm standing here talking to a rock." He laughed again. "I know you're not even buried here because there was nothing left of you to bury. I don't know if I'm insane or desperate, and, for the life of me, I can't figure out which is worse." He sighed. "I don't know why you'd listen to me even if you were here." He looked up at the sky, letting the sun warm his face, with the clouds reflecting in his forest green eyes. He was tan, but not so tan as to hide the freckles on his cheeks.

"Bye, Mom." He spoke softly before turning and walking back to the car. The two women watched as he ran a hand over the shiny black paint.

"Come on, Baby," he said, "let's get back before they kill each other." He slid into the driver's seat and started the engine. He cranked up the music to an earsplitting level. The purr of the engine and the sound of AC/DC faded as he drove away.

"Do you think that was –" Ashley started.

"Dean?" Sarah finished. Ashley nodded. "I do. I also think that he might start coming around a little more often." She smiled. "It's about time one of her boys came to see her."

* * *

**_Fin_**


End file.
